Robert Newcomb: Rise of the Blood Royal

The helmet was particularly fascinating. Also made of black lacquered metal, it was rounded on the top, with a wide brim to keep the sun out of the fighter’s eyes. A broad, low-slung metal shield attached to the back of the helmet protected the katsugai’s neck from rearward blows. The helmet was held in place by a thick black leather cord tied under the katsugai’s chin in a large bow.

Of all its amazing features, the helmet’s face mask was the most intimidating. It too was made of shiny black lacquered metal, and the image engraved upon it was fearsome. The eye slits were slanted and wicked-looking, the facial expression warlike, the open mouth and sneering lips twisted into a seething grimace. More chain mail protected the katsugai’s throat, and the traditional long and short swords were secured at the fighter’s left hip. Taken as a whole, the effect was daunting. To an uninitiated enemy, the mere sight of this armored warrior might well cause him to throw down his weapons.

Tristan was about to speak when the katsugai extended one gloved hand and grasped the chin of his mask. The mask swiveled upward ingeniously and disappeared into the space between the crown of the katsugai’s head and the top of his helmet. Removing the helmet, with a shake of her head Hoshi tossed her long black hair free. She gave Tristan a solemn bow which he politely returned, once he recovered from his astonishment.

“We are ready, Jin’Sai, ” she said simply. “It is time for you to come with me.”

Tristan nodded. It would feel strange to leave his friends just before the battle, but it had to be this way, for he was not leading this fight. Hoshi was in command and he had pledged to obey her. He turned to look at Wigg.

“I leave command of the Minions and the Black Ships to you,” he said. “Aid the struggle to the best of your abilities. I will be on Hoshi’s barge, also doing what I can.”

A somber look on his face, Tristan stepped forward and embraced Wigg.

“Goodbye for now, old friend,” he said quietly. “In Abbey’s name, kill as many Rustannicans as you can.”

Nodding, Wigg blinked away a tear. “Take care, Jin’Sai, ” he answered. “Above all, remember Mashiro’s warnings and use your new gifts wisely.”

After again looking into Wigg’s misty eyes, Tristan turned and walked to Hoshi’s side. Hoshi put her helmet back in place, then pulled down her war mask and raised one hand in Tristan’s direction. They levitated up and away from theTammerland ’s bow deck to land on Hoshi’s war barge.

Moments later, the order was given, and the mighty Shashidan armada turned to sail into history.

FROM HER PLACE IN THE HOVERING LITTER, SHAILIHAlooked breathlessly down at the Sippora River’s middle stream. Failee’s spell is working! she realized.

Faegan’s recitation of the incantation found in Failee’s grimoire was initiating a Blood Pox on Khristos and his vipers. It was succeeding exactly as it would have done for the First Mistress, had she lived and found it necessary to destroy her terrible creations. The first part of the plan had been to find Khristos by following theInkai ’s instructions in the use of the subtle matter. Now that the second part of the attack plan had taken effect, every pair of eyes in the hovering war party watched with rapt fascination as Failee’s ancient, long-forgotten spell went about its grisly work. The spell was designed to raise the blood temperature of Khristos and his followers until they died. They would suffer horrible, torturous deaths, the punishments more than appropriate for the crimes that the Viper Lord and his gang of monsters had committed against humanity.

There was a welcome kind of rough justice about unleashing Failee’s Blood Pox against her own creations, Shailiha thought as she watched the waters of the Sippora writhe and churn. Not only would the Viper Lord and his followers be tormented, but there would be an added sense of retribution in the name of a departed Conclave member. For this was the very spell that Succiu, Second Mistress of the Coven, had used to trap and to torture Geldon, the hunchbacked dwarf that she first discovered in the Parthalonian Ghetto of the Shunned. Later she would employ him as her personal slave, forcing him to scour Parthalon for suitable victims on whom she would practice her bizarre predilections. The Blood Pox had left Geldon impotent and sterile-two afflictions that Succiu refused to cure. Geldon had been loyal and brave, and he had been instrumental in helping the Conclave to win some of its most important battles over the Vagaries. But an assassin in the service of the Vagaries had killed him, and to this day his fellow Conclave members missed him deeply.

Taking her eyes from the churning water, Shailiha looked to the nighttime sky and toward the seemingly limitless number of stars suspended from its ebony canopy. Since the day she had learned of Geldon’s death, she liked to believe that one of those stars represented his soul, that soul that had been so much greater than the stunted body that contained it. May you now rest peacefully, my friend, she thought.

Looking back down at the roiling, steaming water, Shailiha suddenly felt the need to attain another form of justice. This need was personal, and it quickly overpowered her. Her face a mask of grim determination, she turned to Faegan.

“Stop applying the spell,” she ordered.

Faegan was stunned by her words.

“But it’s working, Princess!” he protested. “You mustn’t order me to stop now! Given more time, their blood will literally boil, killing them all! Why in the name of the Afterlife would you order me tostop ?”

Incensed, Shailiha glared into Faegan’s eyes. “If you stop the spell, are Khristos and his followers likely to emerge?” she demanded.

Faegan looked at her quizzically. “I would suspect so,” he answered, still bewildered by theJin’Saiou ’s demand. “They will likely attribute their suffering to the boiling water, not knowing that it is in fact their own rising blood temperatures that are causing the water to heat.”

“And will Khristos still be able to call the craft?” she demanded.

“I do not know,” Faegan answered. “But because the Blood Pox raised his blood temperature to such a high level, his powers have probably been at least somewhat lessened. That might have been the goal of Failee’s spell all along. His Blood Vipers will probably be similarly affected.”

“Good,” Shailiha answered. “Now stop employing the spell! That is a direct order!”

Still confused, Faegan simply stared back at her. If he was to do this thing, he was determined to understand her reasons.

“Butwhy?” he again protested, this time fairly screeching at her.

Raising one hand, Shailiha pointed to her black eye patch. “Thisis why!” she shouted. “And I do this for Abbey as well! I want that abomination of the craft to know that it was I who killed him! Now are you going to obey my orders before it’s too late?”

“Very well,” Faegan answered. “But after the spell is gone, what are your plans?”

“The plan is simple,” Shailiha answered. “When they emerge, I will take the Minions down and kill them all. You may participate if you like. But this is going to happen with or without you approval.”

Her face grim, theJin’Saiou looked back down at the roiling water.

“I fully understand that dead is dead, no matter how it is arrived at,” she added quietly. “But how these abominations meet their end has meaning for me. The Blood Pox seems too easy. I want them butchered in the same way that they butchered so many of us. I forbid you to use your powers against the Viper Lord’s person unless he kills me.”

Finally consenting, Faegan ended the spell. Soon the water stopped churning and the rising steam vanished. Tense moments passed as the hovering war party waited and watched. As the first of the many reptilian heads broke the surface of the river, Shailiha turned toward Traax.